


Of Blessed Memory

by Lizburns



Category: Lost Girl
Genre: Alternative Plot, F/F, Memory Loss, Slow Burn, Smut in future chapters, Some Romance, Tamsin Centric, i didn't care for season 5 and some of season 4 and this is my way of ignoring it, some violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-04-17 04:30:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4652295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lizburns/pseuds/Lizburns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tamsin is reborn, but her memories have not returned with her. She struggles with the loss of something she's never known as she tries to find herself in the process. </p>
<p>This is her last life. How will she choose to live it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Prologue

Everything is cloudy for Tamsin as she stirs from unconsciousness. Like a thick curtain of fog hanging between her and desperate balance, the pieces of what she feels come together too slowly. Her eyes are so heavy as she attempts to open them slightly. A small panic is brewing within as she tries to remember the events leading to up to this black out, but nothing comes to mind. Where ever she is now, Tamsin knows it's under intense light. Bright beams peak through the thin slits of her eye lids. It doesn't feel warm and comforting like the rays of the sun, in fact, her body feels eerily chilled, basking in an unsettling coldness and her defiant muscles want to stay frozen.

Mustering as much strength as possible, Tamsin plants both palms on the ground and pushes up, rising to her knees and it's a terrible cry her body makes over the little effort exerted. Something isn't right, she knows this almost immediately. She's never felt this weak in her life. Then again, maybe she has, but it's never preceded a happy ending.

_Why do I feel this way?_

Sitting on the balls of her feet, she rests her arms on her thighs. Her neck is sore, and Tamsin is unsure of why as she stretches it from side to side, and finally craning it forward to rest on her collarbone as she doesn't have much more energy to spare. Tamsin does eventually open her eyes, but not for long. There's a pure white light surrounding and it burns to a cringing point. It feels like painful blindness, and for a moment the warrior considers if she's lost all vision. An immeasurable amount of time passes before adjustment.

The clarity she expects upon opening the shutters is far from granted, and Tamsin can't imagine where she might be or how she had come to such a place. An infinite void of white encompasses all and Tamsin isn't sure if the floor holding her weak body up is really even there. The chill is beginning to work it's way to the bone and the panic follows on it's coattails. This has happened several times before, waking up in a strange place without knowing how she had gotten there. Some nights of heavy drinking brought Tamsin to rouse in foreign beds, park benches, and sometimes in the alley's next to the very bar she stumbled out of hours ago.

This situation is entirely different. The place she finds herself in this moment cannot be anywhere near an earthly realm. Tamsin's diluted mind tries so hard to put the pieces of the puzzle together. There are things she does remember, but they are vague. Little flashes of memories. Lauren looking at her in utter disappointment. Another flash and it's Kenzi now tressed in curls dawning a white bathrobe, backing away from Tamsin in what could only be in terror. Another flash and it's Bo's transformed blue eyes burning holes into her own. Tamsin can see the whites of Bo's teeth formed into a snarl, the succubus standing dangerously close. None of this makes any sense though.

_Where the hell am I?_

Tamsin wonders and wills to recollect, but her focus is turned away. It's then she feels the ache, dull and simple, residing in her chest and had gone unnoticed until now. A hand reaches through the silk blouse over the area of her heart, checking and feeling for a wound that isn't there. The tips of her confused fingers fall upon nothing but smooth and unbroken skin that thumps over an erratic heartbeat.

_I must be dreaming._

“ _This is no dream my child_ ,” came a low and resonating voice that startled Tamsin. But where had it come from? Her ears pricked and eyes scanned the vastness for another soul in her company, fearful and perplexed if that previous thought was even spoken aloud. The bitter cold had hit her then, like a tidal wave that stole her breath away and Tamsin could do nothing to control her body's quaking.

“What is this place?” Tamsin asked aloud with the intention of boldness, but she shivered with every syllable, hating the fault in her weakened foundation. It wasn't like her to be so unnerved, at least on the outside, but this place had a resentfully stripping effect that made Tamsin feel weak and bare. She waited for that voice to speak again, her body like a wound spring in anticipation. The last ounce of hope she held dangled by a thin wire over cliff where nothing but doom and demise awaited in the valley below.

“ _You are in a medium of misery, midst eternal damnation and true salvation,_ ” it said, louder and closer. So close that Tamsin could feel the words prickling needles and raising hairs against the back of her neck.

“ _You, fallen warrior, washed, wicked, and wishful. Once great maiden, magnificent and mirthful. Be mindful as chooser is to be chosen, as you were an infant in the hands of Odin, again warrior, you are small, but devoid of sin, you are not. Will you fall from his loving fingers as you have fallen from his grace? Or will you acknowledge the tests to come and make passage to his heart? I am the necessary balance of rightful victory and praise, but the left hand of my scales tips and bends, I promise. I prey on your darkest fears and faults in great hopes that you may conquer them all_.”

“Who are you?” Tamsin croaked instead of shouting like she had meant to. This thing's cryptic words brought her to no cathartic conclusions except for anger. Always a straight forward woman in search of straight forward answers with a strong distaste for these riddles and too impatient to unravel them.

“ _I am The Judge of all beings created by Gods, and you Valkyrie, stand trial._ ”

“What?” Tamsin found herself gasping in disbelief. More than anything, she wanted those words to be unspoken, to be untrue. She wanted her heart to stop beating with such a driving force inside of her chest. She wanted to be anywhere but here.

Tamsin had tried to rise to her feet, but her damned body wouldn't let her and gave out before the halfway mark. Any words of protest wanted to speak aloud were fleeting along with energy, dying in her mouth with a metallic aftertaste. Tamsin falls forward onto her shaking hands and she curses the body that was so strongly disappointing her right now. The dismay is followed by another hated sentiment of helplessness coupled with despair.

Something else registered as Tamsin clutched her tightening chest with a different focus. That once dull and annoying ache had thrived very much so, to a vicious pain teetering over the edge of unbearable. It spiked suddenly and Tamsin could not control the roar that had gathered within. Boiling hot and erupting a cry of pain and anguish, escaping her body with such ferocity. She found no relief in it's expulsion. The howl resonated through the infinite white surrounding before bouncing back and haunting echos in Tamsin's ears.

There was an uncomfortable warmth growing from the area of her bosom covered by her hand. Through the heavy contrast in temperatures, Tamsin could feel the heat trickle down her abdomen. Bringing to view the thick layers of crimson that coated her palm and snaked down her forearm, Tamsin hitched a much needed breath. So horrified she was, casting her eyes downward and seeing the shroud expanding too quickly, soaking through the silk of her white blouse. A deadly red that blossomed so violently. Tamsin's hand quickly shot back with a thump against her chest in a futile attempt to staunch the bleeding, to be a dam against the angry river of blood that was flowing so rapidly.

_No! This is not happening!_

She would tell herself this, again and again. A blatant lie short lived and fading along with the beating of her heart and the strength it took to hold the hand covering it. The rhythm slowing into longer intervals before the limb trying to protect it just simply fell away.

_I cant be..._

Tamsin began to drift, her body so heavy, her eyes finding it a burden to remain open. She blinked slowly, finding a calm behind the lids in the short moments, like the pain eased just so with every flutter. And then it was gone, like it was never really there. Gradually the light faded, circling the edges of her vision with a darkness that crept menacingly. A morbidly conflicted sunset from day to night approaching, wishing to swallow her whole. Tamsin can do nothing but sink into it, unsure if resistance would keep her from slipping away.

_I wont..._

The cold floor was like snow against her cheek, and the once abundant warmth in her chest descends to match the frost. A small reminder of where she was and the unwanted fate she was to meet soon. She keeps her eyes open as long as possible, a protest against the pitch that desired to consume. Tamsin holds on to anything and everything, like she naturally does whenever the end approaches. Her fingers dig into the ground that is there and then again, it really isn't, but she feels like it might fall away if she lets go.

In the lack of light, Tamsin only thinks of what bears the most weight upon her soul, if she even has one to carry such. She wonders if she will again have the glimpse of, what must have been happiness, it must be as true as the sun shines or so she wants to believe. Whether it be the falseness of her imagination, Tamsin chances it anyway.

She is numb and lost and losing herself in the steady haze of this void. The darkness seeps though the cracks of the wall her mind has built in a last defense and Tamsin is there alone patching the tears that are opening into wider breaks under the pressure. She protects the sanctuary of her one and only thought threatened to be washed away into the nothingness as she stands before the shadowy wave that draws closer.

What Tamsin holds to be sacred, that last light in her lost soul that once shimmered with hope, it flickers wearily now in the final stretch, succumbing much like she is. More than anything, she wants it back. She thinks of a different kind of salvation in the arms of another, and her failure before to recognize the harmony of it's embrace. Tamsin wants to be there now, far away from this frigid hopelessness.

She thinks of all the words that she refused to say because they endangered her desperate stoicism, because they made her appear to be vulnerable and human. Fearfulness of this kind of exposure seemed so trivial now as Tamsin awaited her certain downfall. She revels in what little memories left to recollect and she regrets the expressions halted mid breath, frozen on her tongue, abandoned and unexpressed.

She thinks of _her_ before it happens, before everything is dark and she can think no more.


	2. Creation out of Nothing

Tamsin remembers being born this last time. A flash of light and what felt like falling. She remembers the damp soil that catches her infant body, the softness of the fallen leaves mixed with the grit of the earth. Something so comforting about the cool ground still underneath and the warm rays of the sun that beamed above through the breaks in the canopies. Lying in between the light's tender kiss and the dark's calm shadow, neither here nor there, she was alive.

Even as she lies here now, between linen sheets on an real bed of springs and cushions, in a place she calls home, it doesn't quite feel like home. She misses all the things about being alone in the backwoods. The wonderful scents that carried on with the breeze, the sounds of life old and new singing in harmony. 

Tamsin will never forget her days of wandering with new and clumsy legs, feeling like the only living soul in a world she had yet to fathom. First encounters in her explorations had earth shattering effects with a reminiscent after taste she wasn't quite sure of. Instincts came as immediate and natural as sure as the sun sets in the evening, as sure as the stars would shine in it's place. 

She lived in simple wonder, alone and happy in her isolation, but only for a short while. From crawling to walking and quickly running, as fast as her long legs could stride, it wouldn't be long before the world proved itself to be wilder.

Tamsin lifts herself quietly from bed and shifts until her feet connect with the cold hardwood floor. Rising with the same notion, she walks to the window across the room of which she shares with another. Looking through the pane and into the night that blankets all, she sees the lights in the distance that cluster like stars illuminating the city nearby. Her eyes focus and dilate, making the skyline a barely visible blur until she sees a reflection of herself within the glass she spies through. 

A different face with the same green eyes stare back, and Tamsin remembers the day her life took a complicated turn. The smaller version of herself would wander aimlessly without care. It was dawdling that led her to a river never seen before. She crept in awe towards the edge of the shore, to the stream that flows with as much ease as she does. A curious hand hovered over the water for an instant before diving in with little preamble. The clear liquid was a refreshingly sharp chill that contrasted against the rest of her dry body and the young Tamsin wondered if this is where all the rain goes when it falls from the sky. She watches the ripples disperse across the stream. When they settle, Tamsin looks with awe at the crystal clear water and what it reveals beneath the surface. She peers so close that her nose is almost touching, and it's then that she sees her reflection for the first time. 

The question that soon begged was almost immediately brought to light.

Tamsin looks to her mirrored image now with the same bewilderment as before. This new face of her's feels like a stranger's, odd and yet familiar in way that Tamsin can't grasp. She grows so fast it's hard to keep up, every inch she gains is another unknown weight added to her already heavy shoulders. Each transformation releases a little something though, she feels it within, these new emotions with nowhere near enough premise.

Thinking back to the day at the riverbank and how she had no idea why all of a sudden she knew these three things. She is a Valkyrie, she is Dark, and her name is Tamsin. A part of her still doesn't know what any of this means. 

Tamsin is restless tonight. Her anxious mind runs in circles, more so than usual. Back then in the forest, when she was unable to sleep, she would walk for hours among the trees and give a name to every one she passed. As she was bestowed a title, Tamsin felt the obligation to return the favor. They were all unique in their own individual way, and Tamsin took her time imagining only the most suitable names. One night in particular, with the full moon hanging above, it was easier to see the bark on the trunks as she brushed her palms against them. Some were rough like jagged rocks and others smooth like the skin of the fruits that they bear. Tamsin was thinking of these qualities when she noticed a shift in the night's air. The life that would always chirp in the night no longer crooned it's song. The ambient music was replaced with a low and treacherous noise that raised the hairs on the back of her neck. Tamsin felt shivers as she turned to face the formidable sound and was greeted with iridescent eyes that shine to no one else but her. 

This new feeling crept up along the nerves of her spine, it was a perilous one. The creature with glowing orbs and sharp white teeth that snapped and shouted, approached slowly with predatory determination. Tamsin was stood fixed in place, unable to make a sound, feeling something she knows to be helplessness now. She was frozen to the spot, yet her head felt hotter with every beat her pounding heart made. Her body became tense in preparation to spring, and Tamsin felt something powerful swelling inside on the verge of expulsion. A force that riddles her to this day.

Tamsin leans against the window and licks the back of her teeth, thinking about that night and the metallic taste in her mouth when she woke in the morning. Her young body covered in a color she would later know as red, the viscous substance she had to wash away in the river, blood. The creature she would never see again, a wolf. 

There were many aspects of that night she hated. The hammering of her heart trying to beat it's way from her chest, the air that was painfully stolen from her lungs, and the involuntary tremors that shook her whole body. Her young self knew little at the time, but this was a crippling feeling she never wanted to experience again. She would later understand this to be fear, and this emotion would drag another just as deadly by the collar. 

Inside of her, something lies dormant, waiting for the chance to brew and boil over. It was triggered then, by the immanent threat of the wolf. All that Tamsin remembers before blacking out is the creature's eyes and how they suddenly shifted to retreat their deadly stair. They cowered as Tamsin's vision began to tunnel, and she was soon blinded by furious movements she thinks might have been from her. It happened so fast. 

Through her growth, Tamsin had always known how to sate certain desires. To eat when she was hungry, to drink when she was thirsty. When the body is fatigued it needs rest, when the mind is idle it needs entertainment. 

Tamsin was frightened that night, so she became angered. Something wild inside took over and saved her life, and it wouldn't be the last time. 

She laughs at her own ignorance sometimes. Opening the door to this doe eyed man that spoke so smoothly. He claimed to have known her, shown her a picture of the two of them together, and that was all it took to charm Tamsin from the safety of her home and into Massimo's trap.

This awful thing inside of her made a reappearance that night, but to protect someone other than herself. Tamsin transformed with beautiful wings, and suddenly all the aches and growing pains that unsettled her before, finally made sense. She thought only for an instant at the time, but her thoughts became fleeting as someone else began speaking in her head, in another voice that didn't belong. It seemed, until the supposed inner words were launched from her mouth and drew the attention of Massimo, and the woman he had a knife pressed to, Bo. 

He too shared the same expression as the wolf, and Tamsin knew she would lose complete control soon if not for intervention, if not for Bo.

Tamsin never felt so warm in her life. It was as if the sun was shining down on no one else but her. She felt love, or what love felt like, radiating throughout her entire body. She went to the place that was always better. She went back to the forest under Bo's beautiful hands and so did this dark shadow that always followed. 

Tamsin still wonders if and when it will resurface. 

A small moan is sounded from across the room and Tamsin turns to her human friend tossing lightly in her sleep.

Kenzi. It bothers Tamsin to this day that she cannot remember anything about her. Yet, the girl seems to know a lot about Tamsin. She's heard the stories from Bo and Dyson alike, the good and the bad. Hopeful and wicked truths of a past unknown. It must have been the positive that outweighed the negative, or she wouldn't be here right now, sharing a home with the human and the succubus. 

Perhaps this was where she was meant to be. Maybe there was a reason Dyson spent weeks looking for her. Tamsin used to be sore about the subject, being pulled from her home and thrown into another. 

She had never heard another voice until that day, and it was calling out into the winds carrying the echo of her name with the breeze. Tamsin hid as the voice drew closer, refusing to answer back in fear. She chose to ignore it's tone of searching and concern, tucked away in the foliage and hoping for it to pass. When a foreign hand wandered through the branches and into her territory, Tamsin reacted purely on instinct.

Surely the bite she delivered would suffice a warning, for Tamsin wished to never repeat that dreadful night with the wolf. Her hopes of quelling went without grant though. When those hands returned and pulled her from sanctuary, Tamsin felt the rage burning inside. Something within begged to scratch and tear to pieces and resolve to act upon it was almost lost. But when she looked into his soft brown eyes, Tamsin stilled her struggling. Realizing the concern that once fell upon deaf ears, now clear as day and revealed through his kind expression. This curly haired and bearded man looked to Tamsin as if he was suddenly relieved and at ease. Like he had found what he was desperately searching for. 

Tamsin still doesn't remember Dyson, and that bothers her too. 

She sighs against the window and her breath makes fog upon the glass. Tamsin wipes it away and wishes it were that easy, for a simple motion and all what clouded her mind would be cleared. 

Kenzi stirs on her mattress again and groans a little louder this time. “Go to sleep!” she whines.

“In a minute,” Tamsin replies distractedly, still gazing out the window. Kenzi lets out a huff of frustration. 

“I can hear you forlorning over there. Save some brooding for tomorrow will ya?” Kenzi says muffled though the pillow she has over her face, and Tamsin can't help but smile a little. 

'Yeah, yeah,” Tamsin mumbles under her breath. She's not even tired. She wonders if that's a Valkyrie thing or if she's so restless because of all these thoughts dancing around in her head.

She was reborn into this world, in the middle of nowhere, in strange and tattered clothes that were five times too big, knowing nothing but three things that are still an enigma. Tamsin wonders if she'll ever know what they really mean, she wonders if she'll remember all the stories told about her...

“T!” Kenzi yells and Tamsin turns only to catch the pillow flying though the air with her face. The sudden force makes her flinch backwards and hit her head on the glass.

“Owwwaahh!” Tamsin shouts, rubbing the back of her head.

“We're going shopping early tomorrow and I need A game Tamsin,” Kenzi says, sitting up in the bed. “Not cranky, big baggy eyed 'Are we done yet?' Tamsin! Go be emo in your dreams or something.”

Tamsin picks up the thrown pillow and rises to her feet. Kenzi always had a way of snapping her out of whatever funk she was in, whether it was intentional or not. She was perhaps Tamsin's only friend in this life. The human had raised her to full maturity and then some, and for that Tamsin was grateful. This girl's charming wit seemed to amusingly tickle something inside, and at times a clever pun was enough to draw Tamsin from her moping. 

Tamsin eyed the pillow before raising her glance to smile wickedly at her friend. 

“What are you doing?” Kenzi asks with a hint of suspicion and Tamsin is just looks at her pillow like she's found a better use for it. 

“Something,” Tamsin grins. Kenzi has little to no time to ready herself before Tamsin launches a full scale attack with the pillow. She gets in a few good hits before Kenzi joins in as well. 

Soon they're both laughing hysterically, swinging through the feathers that float all over the room. Kenzi's squealing something that sounds like “No fair! No fair!” and objects that lay nearby fall and break like collateral damage on the floor. Until the door opens and Bo stands in the threshold looking tired and peeved.

“Hey!” Bo shouts, and the two freeze frame their motions. There's only shocked silence until Tamsin coughs out the random feather from her mouth and Kenzi tries her best not to giggle. Bo's got a puzzled expression on her face mixed with irritation and Tamsin finds something formidable about the succubus when she looks this way.

“Some of us are trying to sleep you know,” Bo says with arms crossed over her usual choice of kimonos.

“You're one to talk,” Kenzi chimes in. “The noises from your room make me wanna,” she pauses to make a gagging gesture that produces a faint laugh from Tamsin. “It's the soundtrack to my nightmares.”

“Ha. Ha.” Bo rolls her eyes and smiles lightly before she remembers that she's still somewhat perturbed. “Just keep it down,” she says and closes the door with a near slam.

“What's her problem?” Tamsin asks, gathering what was left of her pillow and settling herself in bed.

Kenzi just shrugs. “Death train blues”. She pulls the covers over Tamsin and tucks them in, like she's always done since the day Dyson practically dropped off the little Valkyrie on her doorstep. “She's just having a tough time piecing things together,” Kenzi adds.

Tamsin knows all too well. Living with inexplicable voids in your life, trying so hard to fill in the gaps that grow wider each day. The questions that remain unanswered, the restlessness leaves a stain upon the mind. Never knowing how the blemish ever came to be, and never being able to wash it clean. Tamsin knows.

She nods her head and hums goodnight to Kenzi. Turning to the side, she closes her eyes for an instant, but in another, they flutter open again. Tamsin sighs a little quieter this time. Another night she'll lose sleep for reasons unknown.


	3. Nobody Dances Sober

_Why am I here?_

Not why in some sort of spiritual or metaphorical way, not in retrospect, but rather literally. Why is she standing here, feeling like the odd girl out among this caste of Dark Fae, dressed to the nines with expensive jewels adorning their pristine skin. With perfectly manicured nails on soft fingers that seemed to know more about holding a glass of some top shelf rather than an minute's hard work. Their eyes sparkled arrogance and disgust in Tamsin's general direction. She could feel the smug spotlight beaming uncomfortably down upon her.

Kenzi said they were all going to a party, but what she failed to mention, most likely on purpose or Tamsin would have chained herself to the radiator, that this grand gathering was hosted by none other than the Morrigan.

Growing up, the subject of Evony was probably one of the first of many serious conversations with Kenzi. The ' _Turn off the TV and listen while I spit some knowledge at you Tam Tam_ ,' kind. If Tamsin were to write an article about The Morrigan, the headline might read “Reasons why Evony is an evil conniving bitch who can't be trusted”.

Okay, the title needs work, but the many bodies and paragraphs of Kenzi's translated colorful vocabulary are inked clear as day.

Evony = Bad News.

If this is true, then what does that say about Tamsin, who, according to numerous reliable sources in her tightly knitted group, used to be a direct subordinate of The Morrigan.

Emphasis on the _past tense_.

Apparently, the Tamsin from before had gone rogue at some point in their professional relationship and severed all of her ties with the Dark Queen. A stunt that was a direct defiance of the Fae laws set in stone, which were, as Kenzi would say, “ _Old and winded like the people who made them_.”

Tamsin was slowly coming to grasp all the tedious traditions enforced by the Fae, Light and Dark alike, and damn did these people have a lot of rules.

She felt somewhat safe in her current situation, huddled within this rebellious team lead by _you know who_.

Speaking of, where the hell had Bo run off to? She tends to do that a lot, go out on her own without word or back up. Although, judging by the guests in attendance, the only immediate threat right now was being talked to death by pretentious aristocrats who'd just love to have their picture taken with the one and only Unaligned Succubus.

There's a drum roll that sounds before anyone says that name. It's whispered with caution whenever Bo's around. Said with hints of curiosity, jealously, resentment and sometimes even adoration. With whatever underlying emotion, Tamsin rolls her eyes a little harder each time some flaps the term through their loose lips. If there's one thing the Fae are better at then being anally retentive sticks in the mud, it's gossiping. “ _Which side is she on?, “She won't choose_ ,” and blah, blah, blah. Go blog about it on Faebook you babbling idiots.

But would you look at how things turned out? Bo pledged to the Dark.

Cue the ticker tape parade and fireworks.

Everyone's celebrating save for Bo though. She's sworn up and down that she doesn't even remember agreeing to such a thing and Tamsin believes her. Memory lapses really are a bitch.

It's kinda funny though, all the irony hanging heavily in the room. Hearing Bo say one day that she'd rather bang an Ogre with warts than go with the Dark, and the next she's found herself to be a bona fide card carrying member. And Kenzi, with all the awful and probably true words she's said regarding Evony, and now she's at the buffet table stuffing The Morrigan's crab cakes in her mouth like she's about to hibernate for the winter.

Tamsin's not one to judge, well... not outwardly this time. They're all on edge and nobody needs the hypocritical teasing. Maybe when they get home, Tamsin smirks to herself, which better be soon.

Tamsin sticks close to Kenzi, sipping from the straw of her tall drink and watching the room from the end of the buffet table. These people put a sour taste in her mouth, or maybe the drink does. She wonders why she decided to take the plunge. To the Dark Fae abyss, not her continued attendance at this bourgeois party. Was it a Valkyrie thing? Or just another stupid decision among many. Tamsin's saving her one million questions if and when she actually meets someone of her kind.

BIG FAT IF.

For now she's going to have to settle herself on this island in the middle of a great big sea. It's terribly lonely when you feel like you're stranded. Especially when everyone treats you like you're fucking Gilligan.

But if given the choice now, Tamsin could see herself taking a page from Bo's book and telling both sides they can piss off. But then again...

_Shoulda, coulda, fuckin woulda._

Not that it would make her life any less complicated than it is already.

Kenzi breaks Tamsin's thoughts with a sharp elbow into her side, and with a mouthful she says, “That's her.” And Tamsin knows automatically who she's talking about. The brunette woman with a devilish smirk strides into the center of the ballroom and suddenly all eyes are on her. Evony's title says everything about her appearance. Dark hair, dark eyes, lavish dress, formidable. The kind of person that demands admiration from all, and damn if you don't grant her just that, there's certainly threefold hell to pay.

Tamsin pats the spot of her lower back where a knife's tucked into the waistband, checking to make sure it's still there. She knows Kenzi's doing the same.

Expecting the worst, the human insisted on bringing her cousin's pistol, and honestly Tamsin was fully on board for that, but Bo urged her away. Instead they made a compromise between no weapons and overkill, and Kenzi promised nothing more than a Swiss army knife. As soon as Bo left the room though, Kenzi turned to Tamsin and said “ _Screw that! What am I gonna do? Toothpick someone to death?_ ” Tamsin sees the handle of _Haroldine_ , Geraldine's second cousin, twice removed, sticking out her denim vest.

The Morrigan is smiling widely as she strolls gracefully across the room greeting her guests with mimicked enthusiasm. Tamsin and Kenzi spectate, making their own whimsical dialogue between Evony and every party goer she talks to.

“ _Duchess Fanny of Bummington, so good to see you! It's been stone ages!_ ” Kenzi mocks in an outlandish accent and enthusiastic hands gestures.

“ _You're looking lovely as ever_ ,” Tamsin replies in the same manner, imitating the woman Evony's conversing with at the other end of the room. “ _I can barely see the plastic surgery scars_.”

“ _Careful now. Or I might melt you just like I did the caterer who botched the mini keishes_!”

“ _Oh Evony, you're hyster_ \- Hold up...” Tamsin pauses their game. “She can _melt_ people!?” She asks with alarm and Kenzi just looks at her sheepishly.

“Oops,” Kenzi shrugs warily. “Forgot about that.”

_Forgot my ass!_

“Dude!” Tamsin exclaims, but only in the form of a whisper, slapping Kenzi's arm. Kenzi rubs the new sore spot for a moment before she turns fully to Tamsin in a sort of mild panic, putting a hand to blind one side of her face, obvious in her attempt an nonchalance.

“Dude, she's totally looking this way,” Kenzi murmurs hastily through her teeth, and Tamsin's first foolish and immediate reaction is to look back. Sure enough, Evony is. Glaring directly into Tamsin's green eyes with an expression that resembles the one she's gotten from all the other guests, but worse. Tamsin's stuck like a deer in headlights for what feels like forever, muttering something silently to herself, like _oh shit, shit, shit_!

Until she does something, a last resort or a last ditch effort. She smiles and raises her glass towards Evony, who's standing a mile away but Tamsin can feel the hate radiating like they're only inches apart.

She's surprised, mentally dropping her jaw when Evony retires her seething glare in favor for a small smirk, tipping the end of her own glass the little ways and acknowledging, only after a few more moments of making Tamsin's skin crawl.

Kenzi slaps her across the arm and brings Tamsin's attention back to where it needs to be.

“What the Fae? You gonna go over there and kiss her ass too?” Kenzi scoffs and Tamsin just rolls her eyes. She looks to the drink Tamsin's holding with suspicions of a different focus. “What's that?” she asks in that motherly tone that Tamsin's really getting sick of.

“Tea,” Tamsin replies shortly, but Kenzi snatches it anyway. She sniffs at the rim before taking the tiniest sip and gives Tamsin a scornful look when she pulls her mouth away.

“Yeah, from Long Island,” Kenzi accuses and pours the remaining contents in a nearby potted plant.

“Hey!” Tamsin yells, “I was drinking that!”

“You're underage,” Kenzi replies, shoving an empty plate into Tamsin hands to replace the drink. That joke is getting really old. “And it's probably not the best idea to get sloshed with the enemy, like, right there.” Kenzi is right of course, but a part of Tamsin feels that if she's going to be stuck here with all these posh assholes, then she might as well be drunk for the duration.

“I'm totally going Noah's Ark on this shit,” Kenzi says with enthusiasm, doting over the extravagant spread before them with eyes bigger than her stomach. “Two of everything!” She says with glee, before having second thoughts. Darting her gaze back and forth between the mass quantities of food and her very small plate in hand. “Be right back T, mama's gonna need a bigger boat,” she hurriedly adds and Kenzi's gone before Tamsin even catches the reference.

_Damn it, Kenz! You promised you wouldn't leave me alone with these people!_

“Champagne Miss?” Tamsin flinches at the server who suddenly appears by her side, smiling like he doesn't get paid enough for this shit.

_Oh thank God._

“Absolutely,” she says with relief and helps herself to a flute from the silver tray, downing it in one gulp because she's not nearly inebriated enough for this shit either. Tamsin trades the empty glass for two more full ones and the server just gives her a judgmental look. “What?” she says defensively, “I'm thirsty.” The young man trades her a scoff for a scowl before he leaves.

_Even the help are assholes._

Kenzi hasn't returned yet and Tamsin's thinking about ditching this area to find her. Pivoting her heel sharply, Tamsin turns too quickly and bumps elbows with another person she didn't realize was standing right behind her. The sudden collision causes the flutes in her hands to jostle and slosh the bubbling amber liquid over the edges terribly.

“Shit!” Tamsin curses at the mess, setting the glasses down on the table. She's searching for something to dry her dripping hands like it's more important than apologizing to the person she's just ran into.

“ _Tamsin_?” A female's voice says, and the familiarity of her tone jars Tamsin's attention away from her soon to be sticky hands.

She raises her glance upward from high black heels, to long slender legs, to an elegant black dress. Higher to the light skin of arms with the faintest definition, to strong shoulders that this garment rested so gracefully upon. Even higher to a distinguished jaw line, pink lips slightly pursed but upturning into the beginnings of a smile. Tamsin's piercing green eyes connected with the gentlest of browns upon a beautiful face framed with blonde hair, a face she was sure to have seen before.

_You're the missing woman._

When their house was ransacked by Massimo's goons, Tamsin wasn't allowed to be left alone anymore. The following day in particular, Bo dragged her along to the police station where Dyson worked and later on shirked her babysitting duties upon the doe eyed wolf shifter. Tamsin sat in that small interrogation room all day with her highlighters, going over the phone records of a missing person and basically getting paid in donuts to do Dyson's job. The woman they were trying to find, Tamsin saw a picture of her in one of the folders. It was as glamorous as a mug shot could ever be, but nonetheless, Tamsin always wondered what happened to that pretty but sad woman in the photo.

_Doctor Lauren Lewis..._

It really is her, in the flesh. Tamsin remembers that picture and it did her no justice at all.

_But how does she know who I am?_

“What's up Doc?” Tamsin settles for that jest, figuring she'll play this by ear and see where it goes.

Suddenly, she clutches her head as something hits her like a bolt of lightening directly to the brain. Her vision is bright and blurry, blinding in a painful way. Tamsin squints her eyes, trying to focus through the intense light. What she can still make out is the doctor, standing in front of her, but something's definitely amiss. Her clothes are different, Tamsin notices, and so is the setting. It's all wrong, she thinks, finding herself in another place that looks like someone's home.

She barely knows Lauren, but she wants to grab her and demand to know what the hell's going on, only Tamsin feels like she's not in control of her body. The muffled words vibrating, inaudible but surely coming from her own mouth, the directions she's looking in, Tamsin feels like a spectator rather than an operator. Tamsin tries anyway, willing herself to speak or move, but it's all futile. Lauren doesn't look like she'd help her anyway. The expression on her face shifts to that of a hateful nature; brows furrowing sharply and eyes searing with something like hellfire. Before Tamsin can fully register the deadly stare, she's struck again, only this time the lightening comes from Lauren's palm, direct and swift across Tamsin's cheek. Another flash of pain and light, and now she's staring at a confused and worried version of the doctor instead of an intensely angry one.

The sting of the slap still lingered like it was just delivered only seconds ago. Tamsin holds her cheek and the ghosting pain with confusion. She must have looked lost and searching. Tamsin felt a concerning hand on her shoulder. Looking up to see Lauren with an extended arm and an expression that mirrored Tamsin's, but with a glint of worry shimmering in her eyes.

“Are you alright?” Lauren asks, and Tamsin could feel fingers tighten against her arm pressing and waiting for reply.

She felt uncomfortable for a moment, like her skin was prickling with a chilling eeriness. Tamsin shrugs away this looming and unsettling feeling within, and at the same time, shrugging away from Lauren's grasp. The edges of Tamsin's mouth turn to form a half hearted smile, as if to convey an allusion of some assurance that she had none of, but it was sincere in it's directed warmth. Tamsin spoke with a confidence and familiarity as if her memory served her well and was not actually a blank slate.

“Yeah, never better Doc,” Tamsin says without skipping a beat. “Yourself? Haven't seen you in a hot minute.” Or a hot second. The vision of the doctor bitch slapping her still fresh in her mind.

Kenzi had told her that it was probably best if people didn't know she had full blown amnesia, because she feared it would be used against her. Massimo: case and point. Kenzi instead suggested that Tamsin act accordingly, using the information gathered by word of mouth to her advantage so that others were non the wiser of her cerebral predicament.

“I, um,” Lauren started, running her fingers through her hair as a nervous habit, Tamsin deduced. “I'm great, thank you,” Lauren finally answers with a suspicious tone in her words. She seemed nervous or cautious, Tamsin thought. It was clear, whatever the hell just flashed through her head, that the two were not fond of each other. Tamsin's racking her brain to figure out why. She feels no ill will towards the woman in this moment.

“Champagne?” Tamsin offers, picking up the glass that wasn't quite wasted and stretching it out to Lauren like an olive branch. “It's free... well, what didn't spill on the floor,” Tamsin smiles and Lauren looks at the drink wearily like it's been poisoned, but Tamsin insists.

“Sure, why not,” Lauren finally says, one side of her mouth quirking to grin. She takes the drink and Tamsin's relieved, the muscles in her arm were beginning to burn awkwardly while Lauren waited too long to come to a decision.

The doctors fingertips brush against Tamsin's hand for the briefest of seconds and it tingles all the nerve endings. Lauren motions are tentative and yet delicate, graceful even, totally opposite of how she speaks.

“Cheers.” Tamsin toasts, and they clink their glasses together in silence, and suddenly the air around Tamsin became heavy and awkward. Her eyes darted to different directions, thinking of her next few words, but all that comes to mind is a trailing, “So...”

“So...” Lauren clears her throat like she's having the same problem. “I heard about what happened,” Lauren begins, and there's a dozen things that automatically come to mind. “With you and Dyson,” Lauren elaborates, and Tamsin nods in immediate understanding.

She's referring to the car crash some months ago, after the Wanderer thing with Bo. Not Tamsin's proudest moment. Oddly, this must be the doctor's way of making small talk, bringing up a subject that Tamsin's sensitive about.

Tamsin's fiddling with her now empty champagne glass, fingers skirting around the rim and wishing the waiter would come back soon with more.

“Yeah, well,” Tamsin sighs and shrugs without meeting Lauren's curious eyes. “It was my time anyway,” she admits. “Live... die... repeat. The Valkyrie way,” Tamsin says like she knows what she's talking about.

“And here you are again,” Lauren remarks with an astonishment that tears Tamsin's gaze away from her empty glass.

“In the flesh,” Tamsin replies with another shrug.

“ _Fascinating_ ,” Lauren says, with the very meaning of the word written all over her face, the thrill of which captured in her inflection. “How did you do it?” Lauren asks with intrigue, and it puzzles Tamsin. No one's ever asked her that question before, but then again, a Fae scientist has never graced Tamsin with their presence either.

Of course it was in Lauren's nature to seek truth and understanding, but it was also in Tamsin's nature to build walls.

“Magicians never reveal their tricks,” Tamsin smiles with evasiveness, adding the first brick to her barrier. “You know that,” she says, cocking her head to one side coyly.

“Yes of course,” Lauren blushes with mild embarrassment, doing that thing with her hair again and looking at the floor. “I apologize.”

There's no need, Tamsin wants to say. She's not offended in the least bit, she has no recollection to even justify being insulted. Something about this woman makes Tamsin want to spill all of her secrets, but she snaps out of that desire.

Tamsin lightly laughs at the doctor's self awareness. “I'll tell you how I reappeared,” she smiles before adding an arched eyebrow and jokes, “if you tell me how you disappeared.” It earns Tamsin an interesting gaze.

Lauren just hums and nods her head in understanding. “Perhaps the mystery is better,” she says.

“Perhaps,” Tamsin repeats. Her appetite beginning to rear it's gluttonous head, eyes scanning the lengthy buffet table with hunger. She walks along, gazing upon the spread and unknowingly coming closer in the doctor's proximity. “So what brings you here, Doc?,” Tamsin asks absent mindedly and Lauren doesn't respond right away. In that pause, Tamsin turns to the doctor and casually comments without thinking, “You're not switching sides too, are you?”

Lauren answers with her face, the way she sort of throws her eyebrows and hands up as if to secede. Tamsin didn't even realize before, thinking that Lauren might have just been here for Bo. The doctor appears to have an agenda of her own though, she figures.

“For real?” Tamsin leans in and whispers in amazement.

“Between you and I,” Lauren says, “I'm testing the waters, if you will.”

“I get it,” Tamsin jogs her head, weighing Lauren's options as if they were her own. She knows enough about the doctor to come to conclusions. The light Fae had done her wrong in the worst ways. Tamsin knows about the servitude, Lachlan and the Ash that proceded. She knows about Nadia and the curse under guise of disease. Tricks to keep Lauren hanging onto the lighter side and never straying.

Tamsin takes everything with a grain of salt, of course. First hand knowledge is more reliable than thrifted and passed around information. Although, Kenzi, Bo and Dyson had proven themselves to be truthful commentators.

“I don't blame you,” Tamsin says. “For wanting a second opinion,” she adds, hinting with that underlying phrase she thinks might amuse the doctor.

It does, and Lauren lets out a chuckle, freely and honestly, not forced unlike all those other nervous grins.

“That's really refreshing, you know,” Lauren says. “Some people don't seem to agree with what I'm doing.”

Tamsin just hums, wondering who specifically the doctor's thinking of. Thinking things over, it's probably Bo she's referring to. What was the doctor supposed to do though? After getting caught up with Taft. The way Bo holds Lauren so high on a pedestal, Tamsin believes she never meant to do wrong by the Fae, or anyone else for that matter. Circumstance, trickery, the Kansas City shuffle, and afterwards you find yourself in a position of doing harm you never intended in the first place.

The Light would never really excuse such a betrayal, ignorant or otherwise. Lauren can't exist as a human in this world without some kind of backing, even if it is Evony providing the protection.

“You know what I say about that?” Tamsin asks wittily, leaning in closer like she only wants Lauren to hear, and the doctor shakes her head. “I say fuck em,” she beams the whisper and Lauren does that nervous laugh again. Tamsin picks up a small rotell and brings it to her mouth. “Simple,” she says before taking a bite.

“If only it were,” Lauren admits, sipping the champagne she's hardly touched. She looks up and to the left, as if departing into her own thoughts. “Isolating protein molecules of cultured cells with an Assay test and...” Lauren talks like she's speaking in another worldly language, but quickly stops herself from divulging more. Shaking her head, “I find that easier,” and Tamsin has no clue what she's talking about, her sideways glance is involuntary.

This woman is probably too smart for her own good, but the intelligence bursting at the seams and presented humbly, Tamsin thinks it to be endearing.

Tamsin crosses her arms and continues to leer but with amusement. “You don't _Assay_.”

“There you are!” Kenzi exasperatedly calls out, and Tamsin turns to find the human tugging at her arm. “I need you!” She must be unaware of Tamsin's current company as she begins to pull her away with urgency.

“Hello Kenzi,” Lauren says coolly, and the agitated girl whirls around at the familiar use of her name.

“Well _helloooo_ Hotpants!” Kenzi exclaims, wrapping her arms around Lauren in a tight but brief hug, lingering her grip on the doctor's forearms, looking to her like she's a sight for sore eyes. “Back from Fae-cation already?” and Tamsin rolls her eyes at another one of Kenzi's incessant Fae puns.

“You look...” Kenzi starts to size Lauren up and down, just like Tamsin did after she bumped into her. “Damn Doc!” she blurts out. “Where's the runway?”

“It's good to see you too Kenzie,” Lauren smiles.

“Listen, I would love to stay and chit chat, but I need to borrow _Scandsin_ for a hot minute,” Kenzi says, slapping Tamsin on the back hard enough for her to nearly choke on the hors d'oeurve. She's pulling Tamsin away from the food she hasn't gotten a chance to really enjoy, from the woman she was just starting to warm up to. “Be back faster than you can say America's Next Top Model!”

Tamsin begrudgingly goes along, signing off with a “See ya Doc,” before she's completely out of earshot.

“Dude, what was that?” Kenzi eventually asks, spinning Tamsin around so fast it makes her head spin.

“We were just talking,” Tamsin says innocently.

“Catching up on gay ol' times of hating each other's guts?' Kenzi bursts out, and Tamsin's racking her brain again. Lauren seemed like a nice enough person; pretty, interesting, courteous. Maybe it was the Tamsin from before that created problems, Tamsin thinks.

She wouldn't be surprised if that actually were true. The way she gets sometimes, bitter, irritated, sharp tongued... it's logical how her and Lauren might have conflicted in the past. That slap crosses her mind again. Tamsin wants to apologize, but for what, she's not sure yet. Neither Kenzi or Bo have shown any knowledge of the subject. It must be something only she and Lauren share alone.

Questions for Kenzi start to bubble, but Tamsin halts them before they reach the surface. Another time, another place.

“There's someone you need to meet,” Kenzi says, pulling Tamsin away from daunting thoughts. She brings their attention to the very large muscular man Tamsin didn't realize was standing before them this whole time. Tamsin's taken aback by his sheer size at first, but the way he carries himself reminds her of a gentle giant.

“Tamsin, Bruce. Bruce, Tamsin.” Kenzi introduces them hurriedly. Tamsin shakes his hand and his grip is surprisingly delicate, even though if he were to squeeze harder, he'd surely break her fingers.

Kenzi turns to her with pleading determination, “He needs our help.” Tamsin's seen that look before, the one that makes knots in her stomach. The last time she eyed Tamsin like that, they almost got into a heaping bit of trouble at the Fae Veteran's hospital. Kenzi with period cramps is a mischievous cocktail.

How can Tamsin say no? Kenzi has a way about her that always melts Tamsin into concession. The human did raise her after all, even though she didn't have to, and Tamsin's forever in her debt.

“What do I have to do?” Tamsin whines her agreement and Kenzi excitingly perks. She goes on to explain that Bruce is a human pet of the Morrigan currently under punishment by another Fae, who he describes as a nasty woman. Long story short, as Tamsin want's them to get to the point and quick, Tamsin needs to 'master' Bruce until his punishment is fulfilled.

“Simple enough,” Tamsin shrugs, like it's no big deal. Wandering over to the DJ's booth and stealing his microphone, she proceeds to cavalierly announce to the entire room that she's going to master all over that big guy Bruce. Topping it all off by calling his current caretaker, Kaia, a dong head.

What? It was the best she could come up with in a pinch.

Tamsin should know better though. To quote Lauren only moments ago regarding simplicity, _If only it were_. Nothing is ever transparent when it involves the Fae, Light or Dark.

When the Morrigan stands center stage and grants permission to the duel that Tamsin didn't know she had just volunteered for, she scowls at Kenzi with resentment. She immediately regrets her decision when Evony casually mentions the “to the death” part with sinister delight. Like this is the icing on top of the Morrigan's dark chocolate cake; along with corralling the wild mustang that is Bo, she gets to witness her deserter of a former employee fight for her life.

_Oh, this is just fucking perfect!_

Tamsin's never killed anyone before, well... not in this life. A part of her wishes her mind wouldn't block that out, maybe it would make it easier for her. But no, nothing's ever easy, or free, or simple. She's come to learn that, now in a hard way.

When her soon to be opponent steps forward and glares menacingly, Tamsin's hand immediately goes to the small of her back again, feeling for that dagger she's stowed away in case of emergency. Thinking she's about to christen the blade right here in this ballroom, she readies herself, but when the Morrigan says something about Tamsin having the honor of choosing the method of the duel, a smile creeps cleverly across her face.

At first Tamsin considers a battle of 'Your Mama' jokes, but that's too juvenile, even for her. Plus, they'd be here all night, given Kenzi's alternative parenting methods. No, Tamsin has something else in mind when she finally answers Evony.

“I just wanna dance!” she shouts, and Evony looks to her like she's a foolish child. That's the point though, playing dumb and naive now will have it's advantages later.

The Morrigan agrees reluctantly, but there's a glint in her eyes, suggesting that her interest has just been piqued. “A dance off it is...” she says playing off her own curiosity, _“To the death,”_ she drips those last words from her lips for good measure, eyeing Tamsin like she hopes her to fail.

Bruce better be worth it, she thinks. Blatantly snatching the drink from the nearest spectator's hands and downing it's contents with little to no regard: for the offended remark returned or for the very strong and bitter bite of the amber liquid. She grimaces at the taste in her mouth, handing over the empty glass to Kenzi, who's trying to give her a pep talk. The liquor is all the encouragement Tamsin needs though, finally feeling the warm glow buzzing throughout her body, she's ready for anything at this point.

The DJ sets the song over the PA system, the tune foreign but the beat is easy and known. Tamsin loosens herself up, shaking away her inhibitions along with the tenseness in her muscles. Looking around the room and to all the eyes fixed upon her, finding a single set in the crowd that isn't wishing her demise.

Tamsin smiles to those brown irises and steps forward.

_I got this._


	4. Valkyrie Interrupted Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it just me or is the Lost Girl fandom dying? Anyways, I'm going to power through this story as quickly as possible regardless. Bc i wont be able to sleep at night if i leave it open ended. If you reading this, thanks. You're awesome.

Today at The Dal, Tamsin finds one thing she's actually good at, and no, it's not busting a move. The dance off to the death three days ago, that was almost a disaster. She had won, but only by the skin of her teeth.

Tamsin meticulously lines up her next shot, thinking about the appropriate English and close calls while considering brushing up on Fae species. Perhaps if she were more knowledgeable on the subject, she would have chosen another method of dueling. How ignorant she was; challenging a Mikishi, a type of Fae with a strong ancestral tradition of DANCING, to a game that they were most certainly skilled at.

The yellow ball rolls across the green felt and sinks into the side pocket with ease. If there came another time, another beefy damsel in distress and another duel to the death, Tamsin would choose a game of pool in a heartbeat.

It's a good thing Kenzi had her back. She suggested... or _urged_ rather, that Tamsin go for broke plan B and use her powers to win. Only after the Valkyrie had exhausted all of the dance routines the human had shown her in adolescence, with a not so great turn out.

Tamsin had only cast doubt once before, on Massimo, and she wasn't quite sure how she had done it. She remembers being angry and a little scared. At the Druid for kidnapping her, fearful of the knife he pressed to Bo's throat. It all just happened so fast. Later on at the party, she was expected to simply... pull it out of her ass and win the game that she was suckered into. Something Tamsin considered daunting, the equivalent to crying on command.

She leans over the table and lines up her next shot; seven to the four and into the corner pocket. The cue ball hits the combination and sends the purple ball home, and Tamsin smiles at the flawless execution and not at the near fateful _You got served_ moment at the Morrigan's party. Upon reflection, the so called duel could be laughable, if you removed the key factor of the loser dying at the end.

Whether Tamsin's an optimist or a pessimist, she's not sure yet, but there were definitely hints of futility circling like vultures over her hopefulness that day. She stood mortified while Kaia danced out her well choreographed _fuck you_ routine, and for a small moment, Tamsin actually entertained the thought that this day would be her last.

It wasn't until that life saving bulb flickered overhead and illuminated such a grand beacon of an idea. Tamsin thought of the moments prior, of Kaia punching Bruce in the face for his insubordination. He was a pretty big guy, probably had more than his fair share of scraps in the past, but still, he was human and the Fae possessed an obscene amount of strength that over powered even the strongest of mortals.

Tamsin squints her eyes aligning this more difficult shot on the table, remembering that look on Bruce's face in the draw back. Bloodied nose, most likely broken, but probably not as painful as the shame he was feeling. That did it for Tamsin, made her angry, and Kaia never did quite stick the landing on that front flip. The sound of Kaia's neck as it snapped in two, it's a similar sound the billiard balls make cracking together on the table.

Bruce was safe and Tamsin was still breathing. And hell, the disappointed look on the Morrigan's face was an added bonus. All was right in the world... for now.

Tamsin had triumphed that day, but it only gave her bittersweet joy. Later on in the night, as she lie in bed, her mind still raced and her eyes stubbornly refused to rest. She tried to chalk it up to Kenzi and Bruce's incessant sleepover chattering across the room, and perhaps the excitement of the day and the residual buzz. Either way, Tamsin stared at the ceiling and innocently tuned into the pair's conversation.

Tamsin pauses the pool game for a moment and gazes at the array of moves she could possibly make next. But as she stands at rest, leaning against the pool stick, Kenzi's words to Bruce the other night echo again in her head.

_Spread your wings and fly._

Then and even now, she feels her own wings eagerly twitch from underneath her skin, like they're begging to be freed, like they long for some kind of release that Tamsin isn't even sure of yet. She eventually scoffs at herself and at the thought. Even if she were to take Kenzi's indirect advice, where would Tamsin even go? Find her family? She has no family that she can recall and as far as she's concerned, Kenzi and Bo are her family. And sometimes Dyson and Trick... but regardless, Tamsin is content knowing that at least.

Things were finally beginning to settle down, and heck, even Bo and Kenzi had cleared the murky waters their friendship was starting to wade. The pair sit at the bar appearing to be intensely engaged in some long awaited dishing. And Tamsin was fine giving the two some space. Honestly, it was about damn time they shook hands and made up.

Tamsin could see the rest of the day going on and ending the same way it started. Uncomplicated, relaxing... easy.

That was, until the woman in white stumbled into the bar.

X

Ianka the Alkonost, a rare descendant of bird people and maybe Tamsin's distant cousin considering the whole bird comparison. Apparently, she could sing and according to Trick, Ianka's vocal stylings could evoke memories. A fun fact that immediately peaked Tamsin's interest for obvious reasons. She stalked in the background, listened while the others spoke as if their words fell upon seemingly deaf ears. Slowly, she pieced together the bits of this story as it unfolded.

Bamber the Buraqian, Ianka's pompous keeper and perhaps the biggest asshole Tamsin's ever had the displeasure of meeting. She's heard of the Fae owning humans, but Fae owning other Fae? Where did it end? But Tamsin's immediate dislike of Bamber wasn't fully set in stone until he had begun shamelessly bargaining with Bo. The hot item in question was Kenzi. Not only did he refer to her friend as chattel, the initially low price he offered was downright insulting. Tamsin would have punched the smugness right off his face if Bo hadn't stepped between them.

Just like Bo to play mediator. After all, Bamber was all that stood between Ianka's freedom and her total death train recall. Tamsin calmed down a little knowing that Bo had a reason for taking the high road. Bo was playing the long game that would benefit everyone in the end... except Bamber. Tamsin will take much pleasure laughing in his face later.

Today was definitely going to be one of those interesting days at the Dal. Tamsin's taking mental notes of all the new things she's learning.

1\. Ball control. There's a way you can manipulate the cue to go where ever you want. For instance, later on and after Bamber rubbed her the wrong way, Tamsin really wanted it to fly off the table and hit him square in the face.

2\. The Fae aren't above using advanced technology to spy, but they are sentimental sticks in the mud. Example: GPS chip cleverly concealed in the tacky Atlantian quartz necklace Ianka is wearing.

3\. Bo and Dyson are as inconspicuous as two elephants sneaking into a peanut factory. And the walls of the barrel room aren't as thick as they think.

4\. Trick has many faces, but none of them are as priceless as the one he makes when he leaves the barrel room...

5\. Russians are feisty when they're jealous. Tamsin might lock Kenzi and Hale in said barrel room if they don't stop tiptoeing around their feelings.

Somehow Bo was able to talk Bamber into letting Ianka preform, and the stage and chairs are set up in no time. Tamsin leans against a pillar in the back of the house, watching as people file in and take their seats. Nipping from a random glass of something clear and very strong found abandoned at a table, Tamsin waits patiently while Ianka takes her sweet time preparing for her Dal debut.

“What's taking so long?” Tamsin wonders aloud as Kenzi materializes by her side. Her friend is distracted or nervous. She bites her polished nails and looks around the bar for someone in particular, and Tamsin knows just who that someone might be.

“She's probably warming up her _deep throat_ before the show,” Kenzi bitterly replies. “Did you know singer in Russian actually means whore? Only it doesn't...” she pouts. Insecurity looks terrible on Kenzi, but not any more than this heartsick face she's making while eyeing the closed door to Tricks study. Tamsin can only guess which pair of people could be behind it, and she hopes that Hale's stupid hat isn't blocking the circulation to his brain. Kenzi should just go distract herself for a little while, she thinks.

“Wait. Why're you still here? Didn't Trick tell you to like am-scray?” Tamsin's overheard what an Alkonost's song can do to humans, vaguely, but the gist was bad. Kenzi's brain could turn to soup, but the human doesn't seem to be bothered by that at all.

“Trick says a lot of silly things.” Kenzi waves her away, still peering around the bar. “I've put up with his fiddle-dee-fiddle-doo, steal-me-pot-o-gold, pluck-me-holy-clover music for four years, I think I can handle one set of Bjork live, thank you.”

“Suit yourself then,” Tamsin shrugs. “But don't come drooling to me when you forget how to breathe,” she says, chuckling at the amusing thought as she raises the glass back to her lips.

“Whatcha drinkin there Tam-Tam?” Kenzi turns to Tamsin mid sip with that clever but suspicious look that Tamsin's seen before. A question Kenzi already knows the answer to, but finds it funny to ask anyway.

“Water...” Tamsin nearly coughs out and smiles dishonestly as she attempts to mask the grimace reflecting the alcohol's strong taste. Kenzi raises a brow and... here we go.

“Yeah, sure,” Kenzi remarks sarcastically, rolling her eyes dramatically as she swipes the glass right out of Tamsin's hand. How in the world did she get so good at snatching things? She lifts the brim up to her nose and frowns. “Just as I suspected. It's of the fermented potato variety.”

“For the love of-” Tamsin laments with frustration. “Will you stop with the over-momming already? I can have one drink! I'm not a child!”

Even though Tamsin's obviously reached full maturity, it still amazes her that Kenzi refuses to let go of this parenting role. She's about to commit to her now daily routine of a ranting to Kenzi about how she's a big girl now, but Kenzi cuts her off before the tirade ever begins. The human's attention is drawn elsewhere, and when Tamsin trails the path of Kenzi's stare, she forgets her own outrage. A certain man wearing a fedora steps into the bar and Kenzi may very well have forgotten how to blink.

“Umm... hold that.. angsty thought...” Kenzi says, hushing the air near Tamsin's mouth absentmindedly with a raised hand that's immediately swatted away. Tamsin rolls her eyes in slight disgust of the doey ones Kenzi's beaming across the room.

“Do us all a favor,” she says, and places a friendly hand on Kenzi's shoulder to regain her focus. A few words of encouragement come to mind; altruistic or simply kind reassurances to motivate Kenzi in the right direction. But Tamsin's loud mouth tramples over all of them. “Bang each other already.”

“What?” Kenzi exclaims.

“You know...” Tamsin goes to mimic an explicit act with her fingers, but Kenzi slaps them away before the not so subtle hand gesture is ever consummated.

“I cant just-” Kenzi tries to argue, but is quickly interrupted.

“I see the way you look at each other Kenz. Yeah, it makes me vomit in my mouth a little... but at the same time, I think you guys would be perfect together. Like peas and fucking carrots and everyone seems to know that but you two idiots. You're making this out to be more complicated than it is. You want him, go get him. Simple.”

To Tamsin, at least, it should be. She cannot seem to grasp why it's so difficult for her friend, who always says what's on her mind, to express her feelings in this regard. Emotions are emotions. Why should love any different?

“As much as I appreciate your ever so insightful candor and self talk... the reality is, we're just two very different people Tamsin.”

“How so?”

“Ex cop...” Kenzi motions towards Hale off in the distance and then to herself, “Retired con artist.”

“ _Retired?_ ”

“Purchases things with actual money... has no money,” she says but Tamsin just blankly stares. “Descendant of high and mighty, _sticks up their asses_ , Zamura Clan... bastard child of Ukrainian street gypsies. Do you see where I'm going with this?”

“Yeah, I do,” Tamsin scoffs. “He's Fae and you're human and _blah blah blah_... All aboard the shitty excuse train to Denial Town.”

“Making pit stops in Afraid-to-confront-my-feelings-Ville,” Kenzi pouts sullenly. “God, why do you have to be so real right now?”

“If not me, then who?” Tamsin grins.

Just then, the demeanor of the room shifts, as Ianka takes to the stage. “Better get outta here before you turn into a vegetable,” Tamsin warns. Kenzi nods in agreement and disappears behind the door to Trick's study.

A lone spectator once again, Tamsin takes back her spot leaning against the pillar. Arms folded, eyes locked onto the songstress and ears vigilant. An eerie silence falls over the crowd as the anticipation spreads almost fluently.

Ianka begins to sing, and damn if her voice isn't the most heavenly thing Tamsin's ever heard in her somewhat short life. The melody carries waves of sweetness through the air, flowing with an elegance to all those who listen. Tamsin closes her eyes, as if lost and losing herself to this beautiful song.

What she sees behind the closed shutters though, is far from bliss...

_...There's smoke, and far too much of it. The scent of petrol and burning metal is almost suffocating. It fills Tamsin's lungs with caustic fumes that burn within her chest. She can feel streams of something warm and viscous trailing across her face, into her mouth, nose, and eyes as they rapidly blink. It tastes of copper and death... it tastes awful._

_And her head is throbbing, building with a kind of pressure like it's caught in a slow turning vice. The first thing she can make out through the thick plumes of smoke and the blinding migraine; a steering wheel and something white and deflated hanging from it's center. She's confused for a moment, but when that metallic tasting stream follows along her face, hangs from the tip of her nose and falls up instead of down, Tamsin comes to a horrible realization. That gravity hasn't shifted in opposition, but that she's hanging upside down... suspended from a seat in car that she was most certainly driving._

_Tamsin looks around hazily; through the dust and smoke that hang heavily in the air, through the blood that stings and blurs her vision. She sees a figure on the passenger side, restricted much in the way she is, only their arms dangling over head and unmoving suggest lifelessness. Tamsin fans away the smoke for better revealing, finding that her passenger is a man. And that man is Dyson._

_A rush of something like adrenaline suddenly kicks in, and Tamsin finds herself practically clawing at her own seat belt, frantically trying to tear it away. In a click, she crashes hard against the roof. The restricted space makes it awkward to maneuver, but she manages to crawl through the door-less threshold. On elbows and knees, the gravel mixed with bits of broken glass rip through her clothes and bite her skin. But it's a dull pain, the kind that's so easy to ignore. The real pain starts when she goes to stand._

_It's white hot, blinding even. Erupting from the center of her thigh and firing in all directions, the sudden shock of it seems to cancel out everything else. Her surely broken leg, it's all she can think about for a moment. For a moment until she feels this hateful heat radiating across her face. Now it's the overturned truck that calls her attention, and the flames violently licking the sides of the smashed engine compartment._

_By the time she hobbles around to the other end, they've just grown more intense. Smoke billows into the air and trails a thick black cloud high above the wreckage. Just how high, she doesn't know, doesn't care. Stumbling and falling before the passenger door, Tamsin's only concern is the person trapped on the other side. With every last bit of reserved strength, she pulls, feeling the jagged metal edges tear into her palms, her muscles screaming from the exertion._

_The door finally gives away. Dyson hangs limp in his seat, shirtless, covered in a terrible red that slips against her fingers as she goes to reach for him. He comes free after much stubbornness, after enough time. When she separates them from the mangled mess, the flames have nearly taken over, building and burning hotter than before._

_It's a scramble to get away. She uses what remaining energy in what feels like a dying body to kick and pull. The heels of her shoes dig into the dirt and gravel as she inches them further and further away from the inferno. Dyson's so heavy, and Tamsin's so weak, but she drags and grits her teeth through all the muscles tearing apart. She thinks they're on fire more than this truck is._

_A small explosion sounds, a short blast surely to precede the final big bang. They're not nearly far away enough yet, and maybe that's why Tamsin turns them over, so that she's looking down upon Dyson. Dead or just dead to the world._

_Tamsin feels the force of the second explosion before her ears register the boom. The sudden blast that hits her with splintering heat and something else entirely that completely knocks her over._

_She falls hard against Dyson, the wind literally stolen from her. She lifts up and tries to breath, but the sharp pain in her chest prevents her from doing so. More and more, Tamsin feels like she's drowning every time she attempts to suck in a breath of air._

_A blackness snakes from all corners, encroaching and blurring her vision. She can barely make out Dyson lying underneath her, or the fists she's beating on his chest, or the red that falls from her and pools on his skin. Slowly she finds herself sinking. Lower and lower, until she's just as still as he is._

_With the warmth against her cheek, Tamsin doesn't feel the pain anymore. It's gone, probably taken along with all of the smoke rising to the sky, as she soon will be it seems. But she's here, for now, for just a moment longer. Long enough to feel the rise and fall of his chest, to hear the reliable rhythm of his heart beating safely beneath..._

The music stops abruptly and Tamsin gasps as she opens her welling eyes. For a moment the memory feels as fresh as this reality she lives in. Clutching the panic in her chest, Tamsin's eyes dart around the room, searching and searching. There's a feeling of relief that washes over her, when she spots Dyson among the crowd. Sitting content in his chair, perfectly fine and without a scratch. It takes her too many seconds to distinguish past from present and she shakes her head to dislodge this unfavorable vision of him.

He's alive, she's alive... well now she is, but the feeling of just dying hits her hard, square and center. The pain she felt still ghosts in her chest, like it's still there. Tamsin takes a deep breath, remembering what it was like to be unable to breathe at all, and she tries to fight the tears building up in her eyes.

She sniffles and quickly wipes whatever traces away. Tamsin hates to cry, and she's embarrassed at first until she notices that most of the people in the bar, too, share the same emotional effects.

“God, what a bunch of cry babies,” Tamsin scoffs and blots the corners of her eyes one final time. There's an unattended glass of something amber sitting on the bar, next to a man who could really use a tissue instead of a drink. Tamsin swipes it and downs the contents in one gulp, sighing as she slams it back on the bar. The rush of warmth that immediately follows has a reassuring quality to it, and Tamsin slowly starts to feel better again.

All the while, the man who's drink she's just stolen continues to weep vigorously into his palms, in a way that makes her skin crawl. Tamsin awkwardly slaps his back anyway.

“Hey... dude... it's gonna be alright yknow,” she says, even though her tone sounds unconvincing even to her. He comes up from his hands and looks to Tamsin, and at this time she doesn't know what makes her feel more or less uncomfortable. His immense crying jag, or that now he's looking to her like she's some sort of angel.

Just then, a commotion erupts in the bar, and their gazes are torn back to the stage area. A man, clad in a general's uniform, stands center next to Ianka. He's holds up a small remote in his hand and yells something about a bomb and... the rest is lost to Tamsin after hearing the word bomb.

“Yeah, I lied,” Tamsin shakes her head. “Shit's about to get worse.”

Today being interesting was definitely an understatement.


	5. Valkyrie Interrupted Part Two

The tunnels under the Dal weren't made for people of Tamsin's stature. Go figure, Trick built them. But running underground at this awkward angle, smacking her head on every low hanging rafter to the point of concussions, Tamsin thinks it will all be worth it if she and Kenzi find something that will end the evening with less of a _kaboom!_ and more of a _hooray!_

 

They've been sent on a mission, well, to Kenzi it is at least. To Tamsin though, it feels more like an errand to keep them far away from the blast radius of that tacky Atlantian quartz necklace. Especially when they see Bo's big yellow Camaro parked in the alley just outside. It might as well be a school bus for the field trip they're about to venture on. But Tamsin's not complaining, she want's to put as much distance between her and that singer who brings up such terrible memories. Oh, and find this liquid argon shit so Bo can be closer to hers.

 

Tamsin makes a beeline for the car as soon as they exit the hobbit tunnels. She vaults over the side and lands squarely in the driver's seat.

 

“That's really funny Tamsin, but scooch over, I'm driving,” Kenzi says as soon as she catches up.

 

“Nah, I'm fine right here.” Tamsin flashes a wicked grin as she produces a set of keys and jingles them tauntingly. Kenzi suddenly looks mortified. She pats down her own pocket for the Camaro's keys, the ones she thought to have had, the ones Tamsin lifted from her in the tunnels. Because Kenzi kept laughing every time Tamsin whacked her head on the ceiling.

 

“Why you little-”

 

“Thief?” Tamsin finishes. “You only have yourself to blame for that,” she quips. Right about now, she bets Kenzi is really regretting all the shadow thievery lessons. She should have known that showing Tamsin how to pick pocket might come back to bite her in the ass.

 

“What's that thing people say... about the student becoming the master or something?” Tamsin teases.

 

Kenzi crosses her arms. “You feel that chaffing in your pants yet?” she asks, her brow lifting ever so slightly, her lips curling into an impish grin which causes Tamsin to second guess.

 

Tamsin looks at her confused. Yeah, her pants feel a little uncomfortable right now, but...

 

“Looking for these?” The human pulls a small piece of cloth from her pocket and waves it in the air. It's purple with white polka dots, the same pattern of the underwear Tamsin put on this morning, the pair she thought she was still wearing... until now.

 

“Seriously!” Tamsin angrily shouts, snatching back her unmentionables. “Why do you do that?” More importantly, _how does she do that?_ She shoves them into her jacket pocket and huffs. “Whatever, panty-less or not, I'm still driving.”

 

“Wait! You don't even have a license Tamsin! Or a learners!” Kenzi protests. Tamsin thinks that's rich coming from someone like her. A person who believes laws are whimsical suggestions is all of a sudden a stickler for the rules now. Which is fine because Tamsin hasn't had a good laugh yet today.

 

“Neither do you! Which fake ID do you have today, _hmm_?” Kenzi shakes her head and looks away from the mirror of truth. “ _Kenzi McAdams... Kenzi Rogers_?” And those are just a couple that Tamsin does know of.

 

Kenzi turns to her devoid of expression. “Ninotchka Alexandrovich.” It's a deadpan staring contest a few long seconds before the human thinks of something else to throw in Tamsin's face. “You've never driven a car before! Ha!”

 

“What? Yes I have!” Now Tamsin thinks she's arguing for the sake of arguing.

 

“Oh yeah? When?”

 

The car crash that killed her comes to mind first. Unfortunately, it's her only memory of ever being behind the wheel, and stating that for the record would certainly not help her case at all.

 

“In a past life,” she just says, sticking the key in the ignition and turning it over. The Camaro's engine roars as it comes to life. Tamsin can feel the vibrations beneath her palms firmly grasping the wheel, and it kinda feels so good.

 

“Look. We can waste more time going back and forth, or you can stop being a wimp and get in the car,” Tamsin tells her. For a moment, Kenzi looks like she's debating the pros and cons in her head, before finally settling in Tamsin's favor.

 

“Fine!” Kenzi points and threatens, “But if you kill me, I'm coming back as a ghost and haunting you for the rest of your life!” She gets in and slams the door shut and Tamsin roles her eyes.

 

“Even in the afterlife, you'd still smother me,” she grumbles. “Now which one is the brake?”

 

Kenzi's eyes go wide and her face turns pale. “Please tell me your kidding.”

 

Of course Tamsin's joking, but she's still a bit sore from the panty snatching. She slams on the gas pedal and rockets down the alley towards the street, smiling to herself. From the rush of driving at an unholy speed, and thought of making Kenzi's face turn whiter than it already is, or maybe green. She'll have to give it more gas and find out.

 

X

 

They reach Lauren's apartment building in record time. Tamsin pulls to a stop and shuts the car off just as Kenzi pries her nails from the dashboard, leaving deep crescent shaped indentations where she had grasped so tightly. She sits catatonic in the passenger seat. Her hair is wild and messy from the high speed winds and she's practically albino at this point.

 

“Oh come on. It wasn't that bad.” Tamsin lightly taps her arm and Kenzi slowly turns her head. Her eyes are something out of the exorcist, glaring evilly at Tamsin in contempt, with enough force to melt off her own eyeliner. Kenzi appears to be chewing some words on the tip of tongue.

 

Nasty words, Tamsin finds out. As soon as they step into the elevator, Kenzi takes a deep breath and gives Tamsin a rather crass and colorfully detailed critique of her driving skills, or lack thereof. Using explicit words and phrases Tamsin's never heard before in her life, and will most likely repeat later.

 

“In this country, we drive on the right side of the road!” Kenzi yells as they step out of the elevator. Past her friends loud complaining, Tamsin hears something else coming from down the hallway. “And another thing-”

 

“Shhh!”

 

“You did not just shush me!”

 

“Listen! Do you hear that?” Tamsin whispers, and Kenzi shuts down her ranting to tune in as well. There's noises coming from the end of the corridor. Sound of voices, music and laughter, and it becomes more apparent as to where they're originating from as the two women sneak closer to Lauren's door.

 

“Wait.” Kenzi stops. “Why are we tip-toeing around like the Scooby gang in a haunted house?”

 

Tamsin just shrugs. “I don't know. Because it's weird that she has someone over?”

 

“How is that weird?”

 

“Well, considering everyone we all know is at The Dal playing hostage,” Tamsin says. Kenzi thinks about it for a moment.

 

“You're right, that is weird,” she whispers, crouching back down again and treading lightly.

 

They find Lauren's door wide open. Kenzi is the first to poke her head around the threshold and peer inside. Whatever she's found can't be good, Tamsin thinks, hearing Kenzi swear a few times and mutter, “Unbelievable!” Tamsin steps closer to get a better look, suddenly curious as to what's got her friend so worked up.

 

Okay, so Lauren's obviously in the middle of moving. Her living room is littered with cardboard boxes stacked on top of each other and what's left of her furniture is wrapped in plastic, except for the couch. Tamsin sees Lauren sitting on it, beer bottle in hand, engaged in a rather invigorating conversation with-

 

“Holy Mary mother of fu-” but the last part ends up being an obnoxious, “ _Ow!_ ” as Kenzi elbows Tamsin hard in the stomach before she can finish. The sudden outcry draws the attention of Lauren and her house guest, The Morrigan.

 

Of all people.

 

“Kenzi? Tamsin? What are you doing here?” Lauren startlingly asks them, but the better question in Tamsin's mind is... What the fuck is _she_ doing here?

 

Kenzi's probably wondering the same thing, only she stopped being appalled by Evony's presence. Now she looks downright furious.

 

“Hi, alternate reality Lauren. I'd like to talk to the _real_ Lauren. So can you please... go get her.” Kenzi doesn't bother with anymore pleasantries, there's simply none left to dole out. She practically shoos the doctor into the kitchen where they can talk privately, leaving Tamsin alone. With The Morrigan.

 

Tamsin leans against the doorway. She decides that she's just going to wait here quietly until they're done, stare at the ceiling and absolutely, under no circumstance, talk to Evony. It sounded like a good plan and it worked for all of fifteen seconds.

 

“Tamsin. It's so good to see you again,” Evony says and Tamsin nods, pretending not to notice how insincere all of that sounded. “Finally come to grovel at my feet?”

 

“You wish,” Tamsin scoffs and immediately thereafter, she regrets it. She looks up and finds Evony's eyes like tractor beams glaring in her direction. The edges of her lips curl into a smile and something else that Tamsin finds to be sinister, much like this woman.

 

“Then why are you here?” Evony asks. That's none of her business, Tamsin thinks.

 

“I didn't wanna miss...” Tamsin looks around. Pizza, beer, shitty 80's music, moving boxes and two women, “This sapphic moving day montage,” she says. Tamsin's already dived in head first, she might as well keep swimming. “Don't you think it's a bit too soon for you and the Doc to be UHauling?”

 

“Always were the comedian.” Evony smiles. “Now, you're just joke.”

 

“Yeah well, those jeans make your ass look huge.”

 

Tamsin knows she's walking on thin ice, but for some reason, she doesn't seem to care. Maybe it's the traces of adrenaline still working in her veins, or the illusion that The Morrigan looks so harmless in casual clothes. Or maybe Tamsin's just had it with today. Either way, it's too late to go back now.

 

Evony remains unaffected by the jab, of course. “It really is a wonder why I didn't dispose of you ages ago,” she says, casually weighing Tamsin up.

 

“Yeah, why is that by the way? Is it because you got a soft spot for me or... you're just soft in general?”

 

“Oh please.” Evony rolls her eyes. “Don't flatter yourself Valkyrie. And don't mistake my patience as weakness.”

 

What the hell is she talking about? Tamsin wonders. She raises a brow in question and Evony just laughs.

 

“You don't know?” Evony says, cocking her head to the side. “The only reason you're still standing is because I allow it.”

 

Tamsin smirks. “Keep telling yourself that.”

 

“It's not me who needs convincing,” she says. Rising to her feet, she takes a step towards Tamsin. “Unlike you, I wasn't born yesterday. You phoenixed back into my territory and thought I didn't know?”

 

“Stalking me now? Maybe I should be flattered.” Tamsin deflects, secretly wondering what else the Morrigan knows. If she's aware that Tamsin's practically a blank slate wiped clean of memories. It's a piece of information that only three highly trusted people know, and Tamsin plans to keep it that way.

 

“You should be afraid.” Evony's voice takes a more grim tone, foreshadowing in a way that regretfully sends a chill down Tamsin's spine. Inklings of fear begin to blossom in her chest, coupled with the added pressure of another emotion that always seems to follow right behind it.

 

Tamsin bites the inside of her cheek. Compelled, she takes a daunting step in Evony's personal space, her tall stature finally working in her favor as she looks down upon the Morrigan.

 

“You know, that kinda sounded like you were threatening me,” she grits impetuously. Their eyes are deadlocked, glaring seething hatred.

 

Evony smirks. “I forgot how hot tempered you are,” she says, bristling at the rise she's getting from Tamsin. The fact that Evony's getting a kick from this, it just brings Tamsin's blood closer to a boil.

 

“Need some more reminding?” Tamsin adds, the fist at her side balling tighter and itching to strike.

 

“By all means Tamsin, further incriminate yourself,” Evony says. “You've already been ousted for insubordination, why not tack on an assault charge against the Morrigan of the Dark... I'm sure the Una Mens would bump you up on their shit list.”

 

Tamsin hates to admit it, but Evony's right. As much as she would like to punch this bitch, she'd be signing her own death warrant if she did. And Tamsin's not ready to give up her last life so easily.

 

Evony smiles wickedly with triumph as Tamsin forfeits and takes a step back.

 

“You know, they're almost done with the major offenders. Any day now they'll be rounding up all the small time stragglers like you,” Evony tells her.

 

Tamsin shakes her head. “That'll never happen.” She takes a seat on the arm of the couch and shoves her fists into the pockets of her jacket, to keep them from doing something they'd very much love to do.

 

“Why? Because you're with the Happy Sunshine Gang?” Evony mocks her. “If you think the Succubus is going to protect you, you're wrong.”

 

“Then it'll be the biggest _I told you so_ of the century,” Tamsin smiles and shrugs. “Why spoil it?”

 

“Because I think there's still some use for you.”

 

Tamsin narrows her gaze, wondering if she heard her correctly. Because it almost sounded like The Morrigan was offering her a job.

 

“I know talent when I see it, more importantly, I know when it's being wasted. You're squandering all your potential for what? To be loved?” She chuckles. “Love is overrated. It's respect that you really want. And you're never going to get it if you continue with this _charade_ ,” Evony tells her, tilting her head in the direction of Kenzi standing in the kitchen.

 

Tamsin looks at her friend. _Her friend_. There's a certain bond between them that can't be broken. The human practically raised her from a wee Valkyrie, and though Tamsin will never openly admit to it, she loves Kenzi, even when she goes into super mom mode. Though Tamsin's not quite sure who she is or where she fits in, she knows this is the farthest thing from a charade and it's insulting that Evony would call it that.

 

“I think all that Dark Belch is starting to fuck with your head,” Tamsin says. “Not to mention, expanding your beer gut.”

 

Unfazed, Evony hums. “It's so amusing how you use humor to cope with your impending demise. I wonder what wise crack you'll make right before Una Mens execute you.”

 

Her stance with the Una Mens, Tamsin will cross that bridge when she gets to it.

 

“I've got this one knock knock joke with a killer punchline...” she jests in spite.

 

Kenzie comes to her aid then. “We're leaving,” she hurriedly says. And thank god because Tamsin wanted out of this conversation the moment it started.

 

“Already?” Tamsin pretends to pout. “We were just about to make friendship bracelets.” She stands and follows Kenzi to the door.

 

Before she leaves, Tamsin turns to Lauren before she shuts the door. She looks to the doctor with a few things on her mind. Some friendly warnings, another one liner to crack at her new boss, or maybe she just wants to tell Lauren what an idiot she is. Tamsin searches for the words oddly caught on the tip of her tongue now, unlike before, when they flew carelessly from her mouth. Lauren seems to be searching as well, looking to Tamsin with concern.

 

“Was there something else Tamsin?” Lauren asks after too much time passes in silence.

 

Tamsin gives up and shakes her head. “No,” she says and walks away.

 

X

 

When they arrive back at The Dal, they find the bar to be in an odd state. Silent, still, seemingly empty like nothing ever happened. That is, until Kenzi and Tamsin notice that the people haven't left, they're all just hiding under the tables.

 

“If this is a game of hide and seek, then you all suck at it,” Tamsin remarks to herself. It's then that they notice Bo, hands and knees on the floor, crawling fast in their direction.

 

“What are you two doing?” Bo whisper yells. “Get down!”

 

“Not in these shoes,” Kenzi shoots back and begins to address the entire bar. “Attention! If you are able to unstick yourself from century old pub floor goop, please do so now!”

 

There's a grumpy growl that comes from behind the bar. Trick doesn't seem to like the comment about his upkeep. Slowly though, the heads of patrons begin to warily rise to the surface. Like gophers coming up from the ground, Tamsin amusingly thinks.

 

“The duck and cover? Really? That's so retro,” Kenzi says.

 

“Did you get the liquid argon thingy?” Bo asks, rising to stand, dusting herself off.

 

“Good news Bo-Bo. Those crystals are for show, not for blow.”

 

“Yeah,”' Tamsin chuckles, “They're as fuddy duddy as Dyson.”

 

“Ha!” Kenzi slaps her arm. “Good one!”

 

“Hey!” Bo shouts, breaking them up. “Enough with the comedy routine! Kenzi, what's going on?”

 

“When we were at Lauren's, I said something about the crystals being clear and... some sciencey five syllable words later... mind you I'm paraphrasing... 'The level of impotency of the quartz is determined by their transparency.'”

 

“And?” Bo says impatiently.

 

“They're clear. Which means so are we.”

 

Dyson appears from the back room. “Not exactly,” he says. “Marcus and Ianka gave us the slip. And I can't find Hale anywhere.”

 

“He must have gone after them,” Bo says.

 

“We have to find him!” Kenzi exasperatedly blurts out, drawing the eyes of everyone in the room. “ _Them_...” she softly corrects, “We have to find them.”

 

“Bamber said her necklace has a GPS chip. We can use it to track down their location,” Dyson says.

 

Bo nods in silent agreement and goes to follow Dyson and Kenzi towards the exit. Tamsin's tailing close behind when Bo turns at the last moment.

 

“Tamsin, I need you to stay here and help,” Bo tells her decisively, and Tamsin just gawks.

 

“With what?” She whines. “Hostage support group? Round everybody in a circle and talk about our feelings?”

 

“This isn't a discussion,” Bo firmly adds, and she's out the door before Tamsin can even begin to protest further.

 

Tamsin stands there alone, in shock, catching bar flies with her mouth. Frustrated to the point of hitting something old and expensive hanging on Tricks wall. This so called protecting her routine is getting old. It angers her that she's still being treated like a child.

 

She waits for a minute, doing this breathing exercise Kenzi had showed her. In through her nose, out through her mouth, but Tamsin eventually finds that it doesn't help at all, it just makes her more anxious, more nerve wracked. Her muscles ache to be in motion, because this stand still is only driving her crazy, among other things.

 

Tamsin looks at the front door. “Fuck this,” she says, and leaves.

 


End file.
